


the holy tree is growing there

by emion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Post Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emion/pseuds/emion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'"You okay?" Dean dares to ask. He dares, because there is no way Cas can't be not okay. He is alive, breathing, talking to him. He is alive. That is all that matters. He is okay.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	the holy tree is growing there

"Dean."

He is clutching the phone against his ear, trying to focus on the road instead of the steady rhythm of Cas' breathing on the other side of the line.

"You okay?" Dean dares to ask. He dares, because there is no way Cas can't be not okay. He is alive, breathing, talking to him. He is alive. That is all that matters. _He is okay_.

"I-" Cas' breath hitches, and Dean is holding the wheel so hard his knuckles are turning white. He spares Sam a glance in the passenger seat. He's sleeping - or maybe he's unconscious. Either way, he's going to be okay. They all are. Cas is okay. It's all going to be okay. And then Cas sobs, a godforsaken sound that has Dean's heart plummeting to the Impala's floor. _No no no don't do this to me_. _Not now_.

"Where are you?" Dean's voice is strained, used and abused and raw with emotion. He wants to pull over, get out of the car and scream until he is mute. Until every burden he has ever had to shoulder has lifted from his heart. Until he can breathe freely again. He removes the phone from his ear and presses the heel of his hand to his eyes, willing himself to just hold it together for another hour. A faint shuffling on Cas' side and Dean puts the phone back to his ear, swallowing hard. One hour. Then they will be back at the bunker. One hour.

"I'm not sure," Cas whispers, and Dean can hear the faint sound of feet shuffling on asphalt, the muffled noise of a car driving by at high speed.

"You at a road or something?" He doesn't mean to sound dismissive, doesn't mean to snap, but he is so fucking tired and Sam's head is lolling dangerously close to the car door. Cas huffs.

"Yes, a road."

"Big one?"

"Yes, a highway, I believe." Cas' voice is steadier now, but Dean can still hear the insecurity, the guilt, the pain.

"Turn on the GPS like Sam showed you and lemme know where you're at," Dean says.

"Oh."

"You remember how to do it?"

"Yes, but-"

"Just do it Cas. And stay away from the road for God's sake." _Because I can't afford to lose you again_ is left unsaid.

Dean hangs up. He wants to throw the phone out of window, wants to destroy and hurt and maybe feel something else than this crushing sadness that dulls his senses. In his head, pictures of Sam’s bitter resignation, confessions he wish he’d never heard, and Heaven falling like crushed fireflies fill his head and he tries to shake them out desperately. He focuses on driving for a while, but the dark road ahead of him does nothing to soothe his nerves. The one thought that keeps echoing through his head is _what if Cas doesn't want to be found_  and that terrifies him more than knowing that he might be dead.

In the passenger seat, Sam starts moving. He opens his eyes blearily and looks over to Dean.

"Where are we?" he asks as he tries to find a more comfortable position in the seat. Dean glances over, tries not to fuss too much, and goes for jokes when all he wants is to bundle Sam up and keep him safe from the world.

"In the Impala," he says instead.

"I- I don't remember-"

"Hey, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. Go back to sleep." Dean doesn't have to tell him twice. Sam's eyes fall shut like heavy weights and his chin rests on his chest awkwardly. Dean grits his teeth, The worry seeping through his bones are making him weary, and he wishes he could just pull over and leave the land of living for a while. _Wouldn't that be nice_.

His phone bleeps, and he sees that Cas has sent him a text with his coordinates. He feels his heart drop when he realises he is basically on the other side of the country. He doesn't understand why his hands are shaking when he dials Cas' number, doesn't understand why he can't say "hi" when Cas' tinny voice reaches him.

"Can you pick me up?"

Dean bites his lip so hard he can taste iron.

"Cas..." It's the only thing he needs to say.

"Oh. I see." His voice is so small Dean imagines it to be a butterfly wasting away in the wind.

"It's... It's not that I don't want to, but you're at least a day's drive away and Sam is really ill right now and I'm not sure what's wrong with him and-"

"Dean. It's fine."

"Dammit Cas, it is not fine!" Dean slams the brakes so hard that Sam's head almost hits the dashboard. Dean puts the Impala in park in the middle of the dark road and gets out of the car before he does something stupid.

"I can manage on my own for a while, Dean."

"No."

"I'm not a child."

"That's not the point, Cas!" Dean is pacing back and forth, desperately trying to get a grip on reality. Everything is happening too fast, and his mind is going a hundred miles per hour.

"Then what is it?" Cas sounds close to tears again.

"I thought I'd lost you again! I thought-"

"Dean, listen to me." Cas clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice is steady, rough, like the one Dean knows (and love). Dean stops his pacing. A car passes him, honking as it drives by, headlights like bright stars in the dark night. He's breathing heavily, matching Cas' puffs on the other side of the line.

"I failed. I tried so hard and yet I failed, again. I can never make this right, Dean. This is not something I can fix. Or you. I'm broken. I fell, Dean. I fell so hard and I just feel so _lost_..." and there it is again, the sound of a broken man.

Dean swallows.

"I'm not leaving you, okay? I'm not leaving you. I'll get someone to pick you up, there's gotta be someone on a hunt nearby, it'll be okay, you hear me Cas?"

"I hear you."

Silence. They are breathing in sync, letting each other know that they are really there. Dean closes his eyes when he hears movement in the Impala. Sam is squirming in his seat, moaning in pain. The calm that had settled gives way to new-found panic, and he sucks in a breath, hard.

"Are you okay?" Cas asks.

"No." He answers without hesitation, and he's not sure if he's surprised by it or not. Cas doesn't say anything. Dean pinches his eyes.

"Cas, could you... Could you stay on the phone with me for a while?” He doesn’t know why, but he’s holding his breath until Cas answers softly:

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” he exhales. Dean slides in to the seat. Sam is breathing lightly beside him, his face contorted in pain.

“I should find somewhere to stay,” Cas says. Dean turns the key, and the Impala purrs to life. He feels safe. _Home_. Cas sniffles, and this time Dean understands it’s not because he’s on the verge of tears but because he’s cold.

“Yes, you should. There’s probably a motel nearby. Just keep off the road.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Cas?”

“Dean.”

Dean chews his lip, ponders about his next words. Trying to make Cas understand how much he needs him right now, even though he’s having a hard time saying the right words. He can hear leaves rustling, Cas’ shoes hitting mud and dead branches as he makes his way towards civilization, his breathing laboured. _Human_. Maybe there are no right words a night like this.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me, Cas.”

“Me too, Dean. So, so glad."

Dean drives off into the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the end of my first published Supernatural fic! Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> The title comes from W.B. Yeats' poem "The Two Trees".


End file.
